The Summoning (7 page)

“If he yells at you, then you come and let me know,” Buddy said to Amber.

She laughed. “Yeah, okay.” She turned and went back to the kitchen with the empty rack for the glasses in her hands.

“I aint afraid of him,” Buddy called after Amber as she left. “You can tell him that, too,” he laughed.

Ryan drank half of his beer down. He couldn’t help it, it tasted so good. He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d drank a beer, but it seemed like a long time.

Buddy watched him. “You sure do seem to enjoy life,” he said.

Ryan turned and smiled at him. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know; it’s like you’re tasting things for the first time in a long time, seeing things for the first time in a long time.”

Ryan shrugged. “You have to enjoy things while you’re here – you never know how long you have.”

“Amen.” Buddy raised his beer mug in a mock toast, and then he downed the beer.

Ryan drank the rest of his beer down.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Buddy asked.

“No, sir.”

“You’re from California.”

Amber came back out of the kitchen with some bottles of liquor. Ryan watched her as she stocked the upper shelves. “Uh, yeah,” he answered in a distracted voice.

“I read your work history,” Buddy said.

Ryan turned and stared at Buddy.

Buddy smiled and shook his head a little. “I’ve been doing this for a long time – I can tell when something’s faked.”

Ryan didn’t know what to say. He was caught.

“Look, Ryan,” Buddy said and his voice was a little lower, a little softer. “If you’re running from something, you don’t need to tell me about it. We’ve all got our secrets.”

Ryan stared at Buddy, and he only nodded at him.

Buddy glanced around the bar, at John and Scooter playing pool, and then he turned back around and stared straight ahead at the shelves of liquor with the mirrored wall right behind it. “Hell, this whole town has its secrets.”

This got Ryan’s attention. “What do you mean?” Ryan asked in a low voice.

Buddy seemed like he was about to expound on his statement, but then he shook his head and smiled. “Forget it.”

Ryan didn’t press Buddy. Instead, he asked: “Does this mean you don’t want me to show up tomorrow?”

Buddy didn’t answer right away

“I understand if you don’t want me to,” Ryan added quickly.

Buddy smiled and shook his head no. “Come on in tomorrow and we’ll take it from there.” He raised his beer mug up to Amber. “Could we get two more, sweetheart?”

After the second mug of beer, Ryan told Buddy good-night and thanked him again for not firing him. He tried to pay for the beers, but Buddy insisted on buying.

On his way out he went to the restroom. He washed his hands and face at the stained sink and looked at himself in the mirror for a moment, staring at his blue eyes, his dark hair, his chiseled face. It was like he recognized himself, but at the same time, he didn’t.

Ryan stepped outside to the parking lot. He looked up at the night sky, at the stars twinkling against the blackness.

He started to walk towards his car, but he stopped cold when he heard a noise – it was a dog growling. And it sounded like a big one.

Then he heard the slight squeal of a scream.

Ryan raced across the parking lot, rounded the brick building and hurried over to the dumpster. He saw Amber frozen with fear, a small garbage bag in her hand. Only a few feet away from her was a large black dog – so black it almost blended in with the darkness.

“Don’t move,” Ryan said to Amber in a low voice.

“He’s going to … attack … bite …”

“Just stand very still,” Ryan said as he walked towards her.

The dog growled at Amber, but then it turned its eyes on Ryan, watching Ryan’s every move.

Ryan stood beside Amber and the dog’s growls not only stopped, they turned into whimpers. The dog turned and bolted back into the darkness with its tail between its legs.

Amber turned and stared at Ryan in awe.

“You okay?” Ryan asked her.

“How’d you do that?”

“What?”

“Make that dog leave. That thing was about to attack, and then when it saw you, it just … just ran away.”

Ryan shrugged and smiled at her. “I don’t know. I didn’t really do anything. Most dogs don’t want to fight. You stand up to them and they run off.”

Amber smiled back at Ryan, and then she tossed the bag of garbage into the dumpster. “I’ve been telling Charlie that there’s a big dog out here, but either he doesn’t believe me or he doesn’t care. Or both.”

She turned to walk back to the pub. “Anyway, thanks. You saved my life.”

Ryan barked out a laugh. “I don’t know about that.”

Amber walked towards the building.

Ryan watched her walk way. “Hey, can I ask you something?” he called after her.

She turned around, waiting for him to go on.

“Are you with anyone? I mean, do you have a husband? A boyfriend?”

Amber shook her head no. “Nope.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to go somewhere sometime. Maybe do something. I mean, since I saved your life and all.”

Amber stared at Ryan for a moment. “You got a car?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s right over there.” Ryan turned and pointed at the parking lot like he needed to show her proof.

Amber smiled at Ryan as she took her ticket book out of her apron. She scribbled on the paper, ripped it off the book, and handed it to Ryan. “Here’s my phone number. Call me when you want to do something. I’m off tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night? That would be … that’ll be great.”

Ryan turned his headlights off as he entered Carol’s driveway. He parked behind the other two cars that never seemed to go anywhere and he shut off the engine. He got out and tried to shut the door as quietly as he could. It was very quiet; the whole neighborhood seemed bedded down for the night. Ryan looked at Carol’s house and saw that the windows were dark. He hurried across the flagstones and crept up the porch, trying to walk as softly as he could across the floorboards. He opened the outer door and unlocked the front door, then slipped inside.

He closed the door, locked it, turned around and jumped. Carol sat on one of the couches with a little lamp on beside her. She had her knitting in her lap.

“Sorry,” Ryan said. “I didn’t know if anyone would be up.”

“Don’t mind me,” Carol said.

“Buddy wanted me to come along with them to a place called Charlie’s Pub.”

“I figured that would happen sooner or later,” Carol said as she knitted a few more stitches.

“I only had two beers,” Ryan said; he felt a sudden urge to explain and defend himself. “I was okay to drive.”

Carol glanced at him, and then concentrated on her knitting again.

“I am tired, though,” Ryan continued. “First day on the job. I’m gonna go on up and get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, Ryan.”

“Goodnight, Carol. And thanks for talking to Buddy about me.”

“Not a problem.”

Ryan walked past Carol and headed for the stairs.

“Something came for you today,” Carol said.

Her words stopped Ryan in his tracks. He turned and stared at her.

Carol set her knitting aside and pushed the brown suitcase away from the couch towards Ryan, sliding it across the wood floor.

Ryan didn’t move – he stared down at the suitcase. It seemed vaguely familiar to him, but he didn’t think it was his for some reason. He just shook his head no. “I don’t think that’s mine.”

Carol nodded down at the white tag wired to the handle. “That card says it’s for you.”

“Who sent it?” Ryan asked and his voice threatened to crack.

“I don’t know. There was a knock at the door. I opened the door and no one was there. Only this suitcase.” Carol studied Ryan, waiting for him to come and retrieve his suitcase.

Ryan made his legs move, made them walk forward, made himself bend down and pick up the suitcase. It was a little heavier than he expected and he thought he felt something move inside. As soon as he touched the smooth, wooden handle he felt a sense of dread slither its way up his arm and into his heart. But he smiled at Carol and nodded. “Thanks.”

Carol stared at Ryan – her mouth was just a slit. Like a razor blade.

Like a straight razor, Ryan’s mind whispered.

“I’ll have breakfast ready in the morning before you leave for work,” she told him.

Ryan nodded again. “Thanks.” Then he headed up to his room.

Ryan unlocked his door and slipped inside his room. He walked over to his bed and laid the suitcase flat down on the blanket, glad to be rid of it, glad his flesh wasn’t touching it anymore. He went back to the door and locked it with the skeleton key. He set the key on the dresser next to the TV, and then he turned to the suitcase.

He would have to deal with the suitcase some time.

He walked towards it, studying it as he moved closer. It seemed old, but it looked like it might be high-quality. The suitcase might even be expensive, but he didn’t know anything about suitcases. He noted the two thick leather straps, and the two newer-looking padlocks looped through the latches that kept the suitcase locked. And he noted the musty aroma of the case.

Like the duffel bag full of money.

Is this
my
suitcase? he wondered.

He fished his car keys out of his pants pocket and looked at them. There were two other keys on the key ring besides the ignition key; but he didn’t know what they went to. Maybe one of them was for the padlocks on this suitcase.

He tried the keys in the locks, but neither one fit; they were both way too big for the key hole in the padlock. He needed a smaller key.

Who sent this case?

Someone knew he was in town. Someone knew he was at Carol’s house. Did that someone know that he’d lost his memory? Did that someone know that he was looking for clues to his past?

Were the clues to his past inside this suitcase?

He could look inside. He could maybe pry it open, or even cut it open if he needed to. He could find a screwdriver or pry bar in Carol’s house and jam it into the locks. Or he could buy a saw from the store. A hand saw or maybe even a power saw. He could do all of that, but he didn’t think he would.

For some reason he was in no hurry to open the suitcase and see what was inside. For some reason that he couldn’t explain, he was afraid of what he might find inside there. It was like he already
knew
what was inside, but he was afraid to let himself remember.

He grabbed the suitcase by its worn-down wooden handle and he shoved it under the bed.

Ryan walked away from the bed and took his shirt off. He kicked his shoes and socks off and headed for the bathroom. A nice long shower after a hard day’s work sounded great. He pushed his thoughts away from the suitcase and wondered about Amber. That made him feel better. He wanted to get to know her. He wanted to see her again.

After his shower, Ryan turned on the TV and lay down in bed. He wore the pair of sweat pants that he’d bought at the Super Wal-Mart and nothing else.

He watched TV for a few minutes, flipping through the channels with the remote control.

His eyes began to close and he drifted off into …

… pitch black.

Ryan stumbled through the endless darkness, his hands out, trying to feel his way along. He walked carefully, afraid that he was going to stumble over something. Or into something. His breathing was heavy, and it sounded so loud in his ears. He could hear his own rapid heartbeat thundering in his chest.

Then he stopped, frozen in the darkness for a moment.

He heard something.

The sound of a knife blade being dragged lightly across stone.

Or a straight razor.

“They don’t know how you managed to do it,” a voice said – a voice that belonged to the red-haired man. “But they want you back.”

Ryan felt like bolting, he felt like running away blindly into the darkness, running anywhere as long as it was away from that voice. He turned away from where he thought the voice was coming from, trying to move away from the red-haired man.

But then he stopped as a red light appeared in front of him, the light filtering through the darkness like lights in the fog. And out of the red mist the red-haired man materialized. He stood right in front of Ryan with his wide, creepy smile of ruined flesh. His mutilated hands hung down at his sides, they were dripping blood and puss, and in one hand the man held a straight razor, its blade open.

Ryan backed up a step, then another, trying to back into the darkness, trying to get away from this monster. “No! Stay away from me!”

The red-haired man took a step forward. “You can’t get away from me.”

Ryan shook his head no as he backed up a few more steps, but the more he backed up, the more the red-haired man and the red lights moved towards him. “What do you want from me?” Ryan screamed.

The red-haired man’s mutilated smile widened. “I want to take you somewhere. I want to show you something. There’s a place you need to see. A place you know
very
well.”

“No,” Ryan breathed the word out. “I … I can’t go back there.”

Ryan turned and ran into the darkness. And suddenly he was …

… drowning in the dark swirling waters. He swam up towards the surface, up towards the light. He reached out for the light that shined down into the water, the light that shined right onto his eyeless face …

Ryan sat bolt-upright in his bed. His breath was caught in his throat, a trapped scream of terror.

Something scratched at the window.

Ryan could see the shadows dancing around the room, an eerie creation from the lights of the TV. He turned towards the window.

It can’t be him … he won’t be there ….

Only the branches scraped at the window. No red-haired man levitating outside the window in the night air.

Ryan let out a long breath, more like a shudder. His body trembled with dread. He remembered his dream. The red-haired man claimed to know him. He wanted to take him somewhere. A place Ryan knew very well.